It was June 4, 1989 when my son and I attended our first baseball game together. It was a Florida State League game between the Charlotte Rangers and the Winter Haven Red Sox in Port Charlotte Florida. All I can tell you about that game is that the Rangers won 4-2. Now the only reason I know that is because, as I take steps toward my retirement I am in downsize mode. Soooo I’ve been rummaging, foraging through stuff….Lots of stuff and I came across these ticket stubs with a note in them that told me what I just told you. The note said, in part, “I wish I could find the words to express to you how I felt…..It triggered so many memories of my first visit with Papa.”

This week my son and I embark upon a road trip to Boston which we will make through Baltimore where we will watch the Orioles take on the Rangers and we will, pay homage to the Babe Ruth statue. Then on Friday morning we will shuffle up to Boston.

But before we do that we will take a fork in the road through North Carolina and we will spend a couple of days chasing one of these;

through the mountains of North Carolina!

So on Tuesday morning we left Venice Florida at 0 dark thirty to make a 3:30 tee time 467 miles away. We were 45 minutes early and played this beautiful little course tucked away near North Greenville South Carolina, right on the North Carolina border.

Dad and Josh from tee to green, at Cherokee Valley in Travelers Rest South Carolina.

The mountain views were spectacular, the golf, not bad….The company, fantastic. It had been a while since I played mountain golf and the mountain factor has to be taken into consideration when putting. I kept forgetting that part. The course, indeed the mountains, were ours and we played 18 holes in a bit over three hours.

We spent the night in quaint little Hendersonville North Carolina. Founded in 1838 it sports a population of a tad over 13,000 folks which counts among its most famous residents, Lincoln biographer and poet Carl Sandburg and Howdy Doody’s buddy, Buffalo Bob Smith.

Carl Sandburg died in Hendersonville County.

Buffalo Bob Smith and Howdy Doody. Smith retired to Hendersonville, not sure if Howdy came with him.

On Wednesday morning we headed about 20 miles west to play at Connestee Falls Golf Club in Brevard North Carolina. But before we did, we ate breakfast here…

Mikes opened as an apothecary in Hendersonville in 1882.

We teed off at 9:30 and this lovely piece of the world was one breath taking site followed by another.

The Cumberland Gap is off in the distance but a mountain haze blanketed it throughout most of the day.

I have become convinced that a key to staying young is to seek and revel in seeing and doing new things. I always will go out of my way to see something I have never seen and do something I’ve never done. That is why I never tire of the open road for a new wonder awaits literally around the next corner.

Well Wednesday unveiled new wonders to me.

Albino Squirrel.

I had never heard of or knew that there was such a thing but on the second hole Josh called to me and said, take a look and pointed. There it was; a little guy scrambling around in the rough. There are a few places in North America where they hang out so to speak; Marion Missouri, Olney Illinois, Kenton Tennessee, Exeter Ontario, Charlotte and Brevard North Carolina. I’m not sure how and why they chose these particular locations but from what I saw around Brevard North Carolina, I trust their judgment.

The coolest thing of the day however was this little event which I happened to capture on video. It will speak for itself. It occurred as we approached the 14th green.

No wait…..This was the coolest thing of the day.

Josh hammered this drive on a 524 yard hole to within 170 yards of the green which can be seen at the top of the hill. He crushed one!!!!

So on early Thursday morning we will leave early to make the 531 mile, 8 hour drive to Baltimore where Josh will see Camden Yards for the first time.

Baseball, golf, me and my boy……Nice combo!

I will leave you with this…..

When you come to a fork in the road….Take it!

Who could have said it better than Yogi?

And so it is on this day in history……July 1, 2015…..Road Trip Day III

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About fenwaypark100

Hello and welcome, my name is Raymond Sinibaldi. An educator for more than two decades, a baseball fan for nearly 60 years, I have authored four books about baseball and her glorious history; with a fifth on the way in late spring of 2015; the first, The Babe in Red Stockings which was co-authored with Kerry Keene and David Hickey. It is a chronicle of Babe's days with the Red Sox. We also penned a screenplay about Babe's Red Sox days so if any of you are Hollywood inclined or would like to represent us in forwarding that effort feel free to contact me through my email. In 2012 we three amigos published Images of Fenway Park in honor of the 100th birthday of Fenway Park. That led to the creation of this blog. The following year, 2013 came my first solo venture, Spring Training in Bradenton and Sarasota. This is a pictorial history of spring training in those two Florida cities. The spring of 2014 brought forth the 1967 Red Sox, The Impossible Dream Season. The title speaks for itself and it also is a pictorial history. Many of the photos in this book were never published before. The spring of 2015 will bring 1975 Red Sox, American League Champions. Another pictorial effort, this will be about the Red Sox championship season of 1975 and the World Series that restored baseball in America. I was fortunate enough to consult with sculptor Franc Talarico on the “Jimmy Fund” statue of Ted Williams which stands outside both Fenway Park and Jet Blue Park Fenway South, in Fort Myers Florida. That story is contained in the near 300 posts which are contained herein. This blog has been dormant for awhile but 2015 will bring it back to life so jump on board, pass the word and feel free to contact me about anything you read or ideas you may have for a topic. Thanks for stopping by, poke around and enjoy. Autographed copies of all my books are available here, simply click on Raymond Sinibaldi and email me.